Attend the Tale of Sweeney Blaine
by xxWritingGirlxx
Summary: Darren Criss led a simple life with his husband Kurt. Until the maniacal Will Schuester put Darren in jail to get Kurt to join his show choir. What he didn't count on was Darren to come back as Blaine Anderson, bent on revenge. Glee AU, crack!fic! Rated M for innuendos.


"Thanks for taking me, Finn," Blaine said, staring out into the dark water. It stretched on and on, the way he thought him and Kurt's love would. Until that blasted Glee teacher…

But no matter. After all, there was no place like London.

"Welcome, Mr…?"

"It's Anderson. Blaine Anderson."

"You sound like someone I know! I've been all around the world, so I know people. You must be… Darren Criss!"

"Well, it's Anderson now, Sweeney- dammit, that was my cousin. It's Blaine Anderson now," Blaine said forcefully. Finn shrugged, steering the boat until they came to a complete stop at the harbor.

"Dalton is just around the corner. If you don't mind me asking, Mister Anderson, uh… what brings you here?" Finn asked. Blaine exhaled, slathering gel on his hair for comfort.

"There was a barber and his husband, and he was beautiful. The husband, not the barber. Although the barber was pretty attractive by his own merits, hazel eyes and pretty muscly, and gelled hair is pretty hot if I do say so myself—anyway. There was this Glee teacher… he wanted the husband to join Glee Club and quit the Warblers because of his amazing singing voice. The husband refused. Since the barber was the head of the Warblers, the Glee leader removed the barber from his set list. Metaphorically speaking," Blaine explained his rather lengthy story. Finn was taken aback.

"What happened next?!"

"Oh, that was many years ago. No one would know because no one in London notices anything." Finn nodded.

"So if I hypothetically wanted to see you again, where would I find you?" Finn asked. Blaine sighed but begrudgingly answered.

"Fleet Street," Blaine couldn't help smiling. It was practically his default expression, although that hadn't been true of late. Getting sent to jail for the obviously made-up offense of "Glee sabotage" did that to you. Unfortunately, Will Schuester was not just a Glee teacher and the inventor of the revolutionary "glory hole". He happened to be a judge as well.

When Blaine went to find his old barber shop near Dalton, all he found was a meat pie shop: "Mr. Smythe's Meat Pie Shop Emporium". Blaine decided he might as well check it out.

"Hello?" he asked the seemingly abandoned shop. Especially, including the meat pies, he noted with a grimace, was covered in a thick layer of dust. It felt as empty as Blaine had all these years, rotting in jail.

Painful memories stirred up and Blaine turned to leave when—

"Sir! Don't leave!" who he assumed to be Mr. Smythe stopped him, "why… hello yourself." Mr. Smythe's eyes raked over Blaine, who recoiled a little.

"I didn't even say hello… anyway, can I inquire you about the room upstairs?" Blaine asked abruptly.

"Wow. You sure get to the point quickly. I like that in a man. The point represents my penis," Smythe said bluntly. Blaine hid his embarrassment and tried not to flinch. He was trying to be menacing, goddammit!

"Could you please explain about the upstairs room?!" Blaine said impatiently.

"It's Sebastian, by the way. Fine, I'll tell you. So there was this husband of a barber, and the barber was smoking hot. Like, this guy was sex on a stick. I've always hoped that the stick represented my penis… anyway, they were in love, blah, blah. And the husband had an amazing singing voice, although he just sounded like a little baby gay to me, but whatever. So Judge Schuester wanted him to sing for New Directions instead of the Warblers. But let's face it, who wants to be in a singing group that sounds like Nude Erections? I mean, I would, but I'm pretty sure the leader didn't even realize it sounded like that, so that wouldn't be any fun. Anyway, the judge sent the barber off because he was basically the leader of the Warblers. The guy now had a clear shot for the husband. So he invited him to a sing-off. The husband was an idiot so he went, and what do you know? Next thing they're throwing a slushie at his eye and blinding him AND ruining his stupid hair. Everyone just kinda laughed and the next thing you know the guy was giving birth—"

"Wait… wait, what?!" Blaine screeched, "isn't… that biologically impossible?!"

"Oh, you… it's called Mpreg, it happens all the time. Anyway, the husband was so overcome with his grief at his permanently ruined hair and temporary blindness that the poor, poor baby gay offed himself by ODing on fabric softener. Schuester stole the baby, as he figured the baby would have the same beautiful singing voice when it grew up. I think her name is… Rachel? Yeah, that was it. And that's all I know," Sebastian explained.

Blaine was suddenly overcome with emotion. It was too much all at once. He had a daughter?! And not more importantly, but worse, Kurt was dead. His beautiful, beautiful Kurt, who never wished anyone else harm and had the voice of an angel, was gone. The only thing left was their daughter, a little piece of Kurt. How could he have let it happen?!

It was the judge, the Glee Club leader. That blasted Will Schuester.

He couldn't get away with this. Blaine's expression hardened, reflecting the part of himself that had with the news of Kurt's death.

Tears never left Blaine's eyes. There was no struggle now. He knew what he had to do. `

"Oh. My. God. I know who you are," Sebastian cried with recognition.

"Say it, out loud," Blaine said.

"Darren Criss," Sebastian gaped at him. Blaine practically growled. It wasn't exactly menacing at his height.

"It's Anderson now, Blaine Anderson. And I'm ready for my razors," Blaine said fiercely.

"Here they are. I saved them for you, along with Pavarotti," Sebastian handed him a box and a bird cage. Blaine gasped. Kurt's beloved bird?! But… Blaine thought Pavarotti had died!

"There's a lot of things alive you think are dead," Sebastian answered his thoughts. Blaine couldn't hear; he was lost in the tantalizing silver gleam of his razors.

"What?"

"Nothing. And by nothing, I meant my penis." Blaine ignored him, staring at his razors with a hungry look.

"These are my friends. See how they glisten. This one smiles in the light, he's my friend," Blaine held one razor up to the sunlight streaming through the window. Sebastian gave him a look.

"You need to get out more," Sebastian said.

"No, it's OK, they're my friends. This one is named Roger," Blaine told him. Sebastian raised an eyebrow.

"That's what I named my penis!" Blaine groaned.

"Leave me!" Blaine suddenly demanded. He clutched Roger to him; only Roger understood him.

* * *

Sebastian had decided to drag Blaine into the real world, which involved a marketing scam of all things.

"What is this?!" Blaine found himself asking. It was a caravan set up and the headline read in fancy, color-fading script, "Get the Sue Sylvester Protein Shake- the Only Diet Guaranteed to Thin You Fatties."

"Well, I obviously didn't drag you here because you're fat," Sebastian said admiringly, "I did because the girl who works for Sue Sylvester will probably sing an amusing song." Blaine just shrugged.

A blonde girl came out of the caravan holding a bottle of a disgusting looking protein shake. Blaine shuddered.

"Sylvester's Protein Elixir, it'll make you thin sir, true, sir, true. Try Sylvester's, it is the best sir. It'll get rid of that fat sir, through and through," the girl sang at a bigger man in the audience. He tried not to look offended.

"I'M NOT FAT!" he cried.

"My cat used to be just like you. In denial. He's fonduesexual and always ate all the fondue. I tried to get him to do the 12-step program but he just kept eating the brochure. Until he tried Sue Sylvester's Protein Shake!" the girl cried, bringing out a cat who was being squeezed in an obvious attempt to make it look skinnier.

The man shrugged and took the drink.

"I wouldn't drink that if I were you!" Blaine cried.

"Looks pretty foul, sir," Sebastian agreed, "I wouldn't want to go near that. Especially will my penis." The man spat out the drink at their words, and suddenly an imposing, athletic woman in a track suit burst from the caravan.

"Who dares to question the mighty Sue Sylvester?! NO ONE ESCAPES MY WRATH!" she yelled, her eyes narrowing at the crowd. Blaine cowered, trying to blend in.

"It was him!" Sebastian called, pointing enthusiastically to Blaine.

"Thanks," Blaine said sarcastically. Sue glared at him, smiling saccharinely. Blaine gulped and clutched his beloved razors for comfort. This backfired when he cut his finger.

"You question the power of the protein shake?! My cheerleaders would all implode and develop cankles overnight without it! You think skepticism is hard?! Try doing a cheerleading routine with Type 2 Diabetes, a craving for chocolate, hemorrhoids, a brain tumor, and worst of all, ill-fitting uniforms. THAT'S HARD!"

Blaine blanched.

"WELL HOW ABOUT WE DO A SHAVING COMPETITION?!" Blaine cried, trying to sound a little less like he was about to pee himself. His teeth had dulled a few shades, that's how scared he was.

"A shaving competition? I like it, hobbit. If only Will Schuester were here, then I could shave off that awful thing he likes to call hair," she accepted. Blaine exhaled, taking his razors and heading toward the "stage". Sebastian patted him on the head and wished him good luck.

"Man, I wish those razors were my penis."

Sue and Blaine faced off with their opponent's rapidly growing stubble. They each held their razors firmly, ready to go. "Don't fail me now, Roger," Blaine whispered to his blade.

Bieste, Mr. Schue's right hand woman, was judging the competition.

"Go, as fast as a steed on a tumbling hill will take you!" Bieste cried. Blaine got to work shaving the man right away, while Sue took a little time to make a "WTF did she just say?!" face.

"That didn't make any sense!" Sue scowled.

Blaine, however, just hummed and mixed his shaving cream.

"YOU THINK THAT'S HARD?! I shaved the Pope. THAT'S HARD! He refused to take off his hat," Sue taunted. She shaved a hazardous stripe on the man's face. Blaine ignored her, working.

"Sue is in the lead! Faster than a chicken riding a hog without a saddle!" Bieste narrated. Sue again stopped in her tracks.

"WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!" she cried.

"BLAINE HAS DONE IT!" Bieste waved a checkered flag. Blaine held up his razors, cheering. Sebastian clapped with the rest of the crowd.

"I would say I bow to a skill far greater than my own… but you got lucky, hobbit," Sue sneered. Blaine scratched his head.

"Er… thanks?" he shrugged.

"When can I get shave-" Bieste started, "I mean, when can I book Mr. Schue to get shaved? He needs it more than a llama needs a Frisbee licking!" Blaine wasn't sure how much Mr. Schue needed it based on that description, but he definitely wanted Will to come to his shop. In fact, that was the whole reason he'd started it up again…

"My shop is on Fleet Street, above Sebastian's meat pie shop," Blaine told her. Bieste nodded and headed off.

* * *

"Where is he?!" Blaine yelled, pacing back and forth. He was so stressed a hair was out of place. Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"Blaine, relax, unlike my penis. It's literally been 4 minutes…" Sebastian told him, placing a hand on Blaine's shoulder. Blaine shrugged it off, slightly disgusted. Who knew where those hands had been? Especially given the state of the pies…

"No! And… why do you keep saying that?" Blaine had to ask.

"I'm assuming 'that' represents my penis. And I say it because it's so magnificent that-"

"Nevermind!" Blaine quickly held up a hand to stop him, "now leave my sight! I need to be ready for that goshdarn Glee teacher!" He brandished his razor, slashing the air viciously as if it was Will Schuester's throat.

Suddenly, he heard a knock on the door. Blaine shot up, putting his razor near the shaving cream. Finally, the moment he'd been waiting for all these years…

He opened the door, and- Sue Sylvester?! Blaine cursed on the inside as he let her in.

"Would you like a shave?" Blaine gritted his teeth. Sue shook her head, grinning maniacally.

"Listen here," she said, "my real name isn't Sue Sylvester. It's classified." She had a vaguely Irish sounding accent all of a sudden. "And you're really Darren Criss, aren't you?"

"It's Blaine Anderson now," Blaine was at a loss for words beyond that.

"Now, I understand that you want to, shall we say, take care of William Schuester? Send him to a much more heavenly show choir?" Sue- or whatever her name was- asked. Blaine nodded, raising his eyebrows. Wait- she knew?! What if she turned him in?! Shit! He glanced around, but all his razors were all the way on the other side of the room with his shaving cream.

"So, Anderson, I'd like to make you a deal. If I get to be the one to chop his ridiculous hair off and watch him writhe with agony as he rubs his shiny bald head, you can be the one to murder him slowly," Sue explained while Blaine distractedly looked for sharp objects. "So, do we have a—" she was cut off by Blaine repeatedly slamming a teapot into her head. There was a sickening crunch and she fell to the ground.

Abruptly, her words registered. Awkward… Blaine thought. Now where to hide the body?

* * *

Downstairs, Sebastian was busy dealing with Brittany.

"You like pies, Brittany?" he held out a crusty meat pie that smelled rank. She shrugged and took it.

"As long as there's no human meat in it," Brittany said, "Lord Tubbington accidentally got human in his fondue and it tasted awful."

"No human," Sebastian said thoughtfully, "not yet." Brittany cocked her head, half a meat pie crammed into her mouth.

"What was that?" she said, slightly muffled by the pie, "Did you say, Chia pet?"

"If by that you mean, my penis, then yes," Sebastian lied. Brittany just shrugged and continued eating.

"I joined this club called Pen15 once," Brittany told her harrowing tale, "and we got fifteen pencils free with double erasers on the end." Sebastian didn't quite know what to say to that.

"Er… here's some wine."

* * *

Finn walked to Fleet Street briskly. The only time he stopped was when a beggar man grabbed his arm with a crusty hand. Clearly he'd been eating Smythe's pies.

"Spare some change, sir?" the beggar man had a surprisingly nice voice. He shook his dirty hair out and offered his decrepit Alexander McQueen shirt as payment.

"Dude, I totally would, except… it's a weekday," Finn said apologetically. The beggar man backed off.

"Wow, you're a little shit," the beggar man flipped off Finn, "oh and there's a hot girl named Rachel who lives in that house right there, just thought you should know." Finn shrugged and headed toward the building.

There was a strange noise coming from an open window, and as he got closer Finn realized it was beautiful singing. Some sort of Journey song- it was definitely "Don't Stop Believing".

"Rachel!" Finn called. She stopped singing and looked down at him. She smiled vaguely. "I'm the one who'll be buried sweetly in your brunette hair! I'll always duet with you! Finchel is endgame!" She lit up at the promise of duets and threw down a key. Finn did a happy dance.

"You are good, Finn," he praised himself, "still got it." Suddenly, the side door burst open and a woman armed with a Rewalk stepped out.

"Come inside," she said breathlessly. Finn stepped inside without a word.

"I am Judge Schuester," Will greeted him. He'd dyed his curly hair white as soon as he got inducted as a judge to make him look the part. "You were here for Rachel?"

"Well… yeah. How'd you know?"

"Every guy who stops by wants to bang her. They don't want me, for SOME reason I don't understand. So I'm going to kick your ass- THROUGH THE POWER OF SONG!" Will's assistant hit a nearby radio that was completely out of place for 15th century London. Then, Will whipped out a portable whiteboard and a dry-erase marker and began to write: SING-OFF. He underlined it twice. "Well, my work here is done. Now, leave."

* * *

"SEBASTIAN!" Blaine cried, "SEBASTIAN!" There was a rapidly growing pool of blood, and it was about to stain the bowties he had from his old life. He couldn't have that.

Sebastian hurried up the stairs and peeked in.

"What?" he hissed, "if this isn't about my penis, I have to tend to Brittany!"

"Who?!" Blaine asked. Sebastian sighed.

"The girl who sang the amusing song?" Sebastian clarified. Blaine shook his head to clear it.

"Well, this is definitely not about- well, look, I killed Sue," Blaine said bluntly, pointing to the proof. Sebastian threw back his head and laughed. Blaine gave him a weird look.

"I've killed many people for my penis," Sebastian shrugged, "I understand the struggle. Let's hide the body in that trunk." Sue was heavier than she looked, so it took both of them to haul her into the trunk.

"Where is Will Schuester?!" Blaine yelled, throwing his hands up, "leave my sight, go tend to Brenda or whoever!" His sudden rage eclipsed any other rage he'd ever had. This was the maddest he'd ever been.

"Blaine, calm your boner," Sebastian smirked, glancing down at Blaine's neon yellow skinny jeans. Alas, there was nothing to calm down. "Damn it." Sebastian rolled his eyes but left anyway.

"Damn, damn- oh, Mr. Schue," Blaine greeted saccharinely. Will walked through the barber shop doors as if he actually belonged there. Blaine came out of the shadows and told Will to sit down.

"A shave?" Blaine said, glaring down at Mr. Schue. Will stroked his nearly nonexistent stubble and considered.

"Will it make me look less like a pedophile?" Will asked. Blaine raised his eyebrows but nodded.

"Of course!"

"Then I'll do it. Give me a close shave. Oh, and watch the hair. I have elves baking cookies up there who need a home," Will instructed. Blaine curled his lip in distaste, mixing the shaving cream.

"I intend to give you the closest shave I ever gave," Blaine smirked. He hadn't rhymed on purpose but was quite pleased at how it turned out.

"I like… woman," Mr. Schue said, "totally. Pretty ones, too." Blaine furrowed his brow but continued shaving, savoring the moment.

"I don't," Blaine said bluntly. Mr. Schue frowned.

"Oh. I was hoping we could bond over our mutual love of pretty woman doing mundane things," Will sighed, "I guess not." And you'll never bond with anyone again, Blaine grinned, preparing the razor for its last-

The door swung open and Finn was revealed. Will jumped out of the chair.

"I met a girl named Rachel, sir, and she's the first girl to ever pay attention to me-" Finn stopped short when he saw the judge. His eyes widened and he backed away, but it was too late.

"Now I know who you associate with, Mr. Anderson. That pondscum- oh, I'm never coming back here. It is unfit even for Brenda Castle!" Blaine gasped at the insult.

Will shuffled past Finn and soon he was a tiny dot in Blaine's vision. Finn winced, then started to say something-

"Leave," Blaine cried. "LEAVE!" Finn ran down the stairs. Sebastian passed him on the way up.

"Are you OK, Blaine? Does your penis need a hug?" Sebastian asked sympathetically. Blaine brushed him off.

"No, he was there. His throat was right beneath my hand. No, I HAD HIM! Why didn't I kill him while he was blabbering on about pretty women?! He was there and now he'll never come again!" Blaine lamented.

"Oh, he'll cum again. It's not like you cut his-" Sebastian interrupted. Blaine clenched his teeth.

"Can't you see I'm trying to give a horrifying speech, Sebastian?! Fuck this!" He threw his razors to the floor in a rage. They skidded across the floor.

"I hope by 'this', you meant my penis," was all Sebastian said on the matter. Blaine groaned and sank to the floor.

"You're never any help," Blaine suddenly looked up, an unhinged look on his face. "Why don't I just send YOU to a more heavenly show choir?!" Blaine picked up a razor and advanced slowly on Sebastian, his eyes looking murderous. "You don't bring anything to this duo except for letting me stay here. But if I off you, I'll have this place anyway. Besides, no one in the city notices anyone disappearing. They won't miss you!" Sebastian backed up, looking frankly quite pissed off.

"I don't bring any suitable assets to this team, Blaine?! Please. My penis is enough assets for ten men. And you can't kill me. Even with a razor, you're frankly quite short, kind of like a hobbit, unlike my penis. I obviously overpower you. And besides, I have an idea you need me for," Sebastian said calmly. Blaine glared at him, his nostrils flared, but decided to hear him out.

"What's this idea? It better be good," Blaine threatened, lowering his weapon. Sebastian gestured for Blaine to follow him into his pie shop.

"Brittany gave me an idea. All that human meat you'll dispose of is just going to waste. So why don't we cook it into pies? They'd probably taste better anyway," Sebastian demonstrated his point by gesturing toward the chalky pies. Blaine grinned wildly, patting Sebastian on the back.

"What would I do without you, Sebastian?" Blaine felt like singing. Suddenly, his joy was pierced by remembering his duets with Kurt.

"You wouldn't do anything, because I wouldn't be around to do anymore," Sebastian winked. Blaine shuddered.

"How about we try a little… priest? Kurt _was _an atheist…" Blaine suggested, trying to distract Sebastian.

"Or how about the beggar man?" Sebastian said, a hard edge on his voice, "we should definitely cook him." Blaine considered this.

"But… that seems so cruel. I mean, he's already homeless and poor, he doesn't need to be baked into a pie on top of that," Blaine protested.

"But maybe his life would be better cooked into a pie," Sebastian argued. Blaine furrowed his brow.

"Yeah, I guess you're right- wait, no, that doesn't make any sense! Besides, he probably tastes like the filthy streets of London," Blaine pointed out.

"Unlike my penis," Sebastian coughed. Blaine rolled his eyes, exasperated.

"Let's just kill as many people as we can, OK?" Blaine whipped out his razor with an unsettling grin.

**A/N: To be continued... love it? Hate it so much you want to use the razor on me? Tell me!**


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